


You know I’d quench that thirst

by mathbender



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Finger Sucking, Oral Fixation, Other, Sub!Shaw, agender!Root, nb!Shaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:49:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathbender/pseuds/mathbender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a tender & kinky moment between these two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You know I’d quench that thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Nonbinary!Shaw, they/their/them pronouns. Agender!Root, they/she pronouns. I'm writing Root with she pronouns in this fic.  
> I edited a few minor things and added a couple of lines after I first posted this story.

When Root walks barefoot into the living room with her laptop, in black sweatpants and an old t-shirt with Motoko Kusanagi's figure fading in purple, the first thing she sees is Shaw sitting on the rug in front of the sofa with a book in hands--something about heavy machinery and military grade weaponry by the illustration on the cover--taking advantage of the morning light coming through the windows. They look so beautiful in the illuminated spot, hair down and still disheveled from sleep, black shorts and a dark grey sweater unraveling at the seams, that Root can't help an appreciative sigh as their eyes meet and they exchange a knowing soft expression that says "Good morning" and "I can't breathe without you" all at once. The rest of the room is engulfed in a cooling penumbra she can feel under the soles of her feet. The hacker takes a look at the mountain of burned motherboards and melted computer cables (leftovers from the last mission) on the right side of the two-place sofa and sits on the empty side. Shaw immediately rearranges their position between Root's legs with ease like it's their natural habitat while Root puts the open laptop on the wide armrest. She's humming in agreement and amusement to something the Machine is whispering, typing on the backlit keyboard glowing in blue, sharp lines of command running on the terminal as fast as she's able to follow.

Shaw rests their head on Root's left thigh and the hacker automatically reaches for their hair with one hand, lightly petting it, falling into a comfortable pace of coding with one hand and caressing Shaw with the other. Root runs her fingers from the top of Shaw's head down to their nape and up on one side, scratching behind their ear and tugging gently on an earlobe. Shaw visibly shivers and scooches back a little, their back hard against the sofa, making the hacker glance down with a smirk. Root allows Shaw to indulge in the niceness of it for a while before she decides to take it to the next level.

She does it moving forward, sitting on the edge of the sofa. Shaw reacts by dropping the book and trying to look back, thinking that maybe this is where they'll get to eat the hacker out and make her come three times before they can get any release, but Root grabs them gently by the jaw and keeps them looking straight ahead in a silent order. Shaw nods almost imperceptibly and Root snakes her hand to their throat, a favorite spot for both of them, squeezing reassuringly, feeling Shaw's blood thrumming with excitement. Root mumbles something unintelligible to the Machine and types a few things on the keyboard, dragging the laptop to a better position on the armrest. Shaw waits patiently for what feels like forever (only a few minutes) until Root's left hand is back on their skin, applying different kinds of pressure on their neck and the back of their ears, knowing where to knead, where to tease, ghosting over their cheeks down to their jaw and its underside. Her middle finger touches Shaw's parted lips, traces them with such delicate and exploratory grace that Shaw imagines if this is how Root is trying to save their shape to memory in case she needs to remember the exact mathematical model of Shaw in the darkest timeline of an apocalyptic future.

Root's hand cups their face, her thumb digs a little on their cheek and her middle finger slips through their lips, grazing teeth, rubbing soft tissue, searching for Shaw's tongue. Shaw is happy to obey, closing their eyes and sucking her finger in, swirling their tongue from the tip, over the knuckle, to the sensitive spot between digits, asking for more. Root adds the index and ring fingers into their mouth and Shaw can't help but moan. Root doesn't seem to mind the noise, so they don't hold back. Though when Shaw moves their hips without even thinking about it--the heat coiling in their gut getting stronger and making their body act of its own accord to grind on something--Root's other hand squeezes their shoulder hard before moving back to the laptop's keyboard.

_Don't move. Got it._

_Fuck._

Shaw licks and sucks with vigour on Root's fingers moving in and out and mapping the inside of their mouth, sometimes letting Shaw's tongue part the digits and take them one by one, sometimes making them suck on all three of them as far as possible and feel the fullness, the delicious violence of it. Root is always amazed anew at Shaw's oral fixation, the overflowing pleasure they show in working their mouth on her. And how hot they look on their knees or on the floor between her legs, willing and obedient. The hacker moves her fingers knowing how to pull and push Shaw's desire and she does it all without taking her eyes from the laptop. Shaw wonders how Root is capable of multitasking like this even with the Machine guiding her when all they can think about right now is how good it feels to have Root's fingers fucking their mouth and the wet spot they know is growing on the boyshorts.

Before any of it can escalate, though, Root slowly diminishes the frenetic in-and-out, taking her fingers out of Shaw's eager mouth one by one, making they practically whine at the loss, until she's back at tracing their now wet lips, dragging spit down their chin and scratching the column of their throat with black nails. Shaw is breathing heavy, all flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. Root dries her hand on a pant leg, smiling at the spit marks left behind, and goes back to petting Shaw's hair. The feeling is different from the relaxing caress they started with. Shaw is still buzzing with desire and when they take a deep breath, they can smell Root's arousal up close. It makes them want to put their mouth on her and drink all of it. Shaw bites their bottom lip to calm down and slowly feel the heat between their legs receding to a warm glow, persistent, but comfortable.

Shaw revels in Root's fingers massaging their scalp, humming low in what is almost a purr. It doesn't take long for them to feel a little sleepy, their body sagging a bit and almost embracing Root's leg. She laughs, amused at Shaw's behavior in what is a quite rare display of affection. She knows better than to mention it aloud, so she only relishes in it, her chest tightening with a profound happiness she didn't know she could still have.


End file.
